Space
by Cheryl W
Summary: Obi-Wan's thoughts when he is injured ***Story is now Complete***
1. Space

Space   
  
Author: Cheryl W.  
  
Spoilers: Any of the JA books   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or anything in conjunction with Star Wars nor am I making a profit from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.   
  
  
  
  
Space is cold and barren at its bleakest pinnacle. It is an undisputed fact. I have stared out ship windows and been shaken by the sheer loneliness of it's domain. There is no safe harbor in the abyss of space.  
  
Now as I lay on the hangar deck, I feel as if space itself has wrapped its infinitesimal grip around me. A coldness permeates my veins and I feel more alone than I could have ever imagined. As an initiate in the Jedi temple, I had yearned to explore space, to make it my own. Now it seems as if space will make me it's own....forever.  
  
Even as I know the truth of my thoughts, I fight against them...at least mentally. Physically? Physically I am practically one with the force. And even as I berate myself for dishonoring the Jedi by resisting the progression of my soul to the force, one thought screams above the wail of the encroaching abyss: I don't want to die!  
  
Fear leads to the darkside. I have heard that warning my whole life, at every tribulation, at every challenge, those words were thrown to me like they were to be my life line. But to me they were an anchor tied to my leg, dragging me down into the depths, telling me I have failed already because I knew the cold touch of fear. A touch I could never truly shrug off. That touch is now as encompassing as space upon my soul. I am afraid!  
  
I did the right thing and now I am being punished! I stopped the assassin from planting the bomb on the emperor's ship! I fought, not with anger, but with the calmness of the force, I gave myself over to the force and let it use me as its instrument. The assassin was defeated as the force willed but why now do I lie dying, alone, on the hangar deck?!  
  
I felt shock more than pain as the blaster shot tore into my stomach. The force had never given me any warning about the counter attack. The force had failed me after I had relinquished everything I possessed to its power. Or had it not been failure but abandonment or, worse still, had I been a sacrifice.  
  
The truth can matter little to me now. The force has done with me as it wishes and there is nothing I can do to change what has occurred. Suddenly I wonder how my death will effect Qui-Gon, if it will effect him. My master is a strong man. Whatever life throws at him, he takes it calmly, strongly with the peace the force affords him. He never wanted another Padawan, certainly not an angry, clumsy, foolish boy like myself. But the Force seemed to push us together, to scream we were destined to be together. I only doubted this once...on Melida/Daan. But since then, I considered our destiny set forever. Now I realized that forever isn't as far away as I thought.  
  
It is not all bad, my dying. Qui-Gon will have his solitude back, Bruck's family will have their snippet of revenge and I can stop worrying about my next failure. Yep, I failed in the greatest way possible. I got myself killed. A smile pulls onto my lips at my own sally. I might as well joke while I can.   
  
Qui-Gon would be giving me a tongue lashing if he were here and privy to my thoughts. He'd be telling me to focus on the now, that self-criticism is just as harmful as anger and that a Jedi accepts the path of the force willingly.  
  
Willingly accept death?! I guess I really would have made a lousy Jedi Knight because I'm not "willing" to surrender to death. I am determined to cling to life as hard and as long as I can. "A Jedi does not accept failure" of course there is a "until" next in the phrase but I refuse to give that exception a thought...especially one of my last thoughts.  
  
In my bid for life, I know a healing trance is out of the question. In a blinking of an eye, I would slip into the force...permanently. No, no trance. "When you have done all you can, call on another Jedi to aid you," Yoda told me that and once I did make that call to Qui-Gon to bring the dactyl. And by a miracle, he heard me. Even as I now give a thought to call upon my master who is on this planet, I vehemently decide against it. My stubborn refusal to accept my fate and my pathetic pleading for assistance would only blacken my master's memory of me further.   
  
Memory? I've already resigned myself to just be a mere memory in Qui-Gon's mind?! I can't even remain true to this farce of survival! A tear slips down my face and I am, at last, glad to be alone. I will not die with dignity or strength or acceptance like a Jedi should. No. I will simply die.   
  
  
Agony surges through me and I can't stop a moan from escaping me. I wish for so many things, another chance to talk to Bant, another chance to save Bruck's and Cerasi's lives, another day to laugh. I want to learn another lesson from Qui-Gon, I want him to know I love him like a father. And I want to make him care about me.  
  
More tears fall as I tally my regrets. Had I lived only some of my wishes would have been possible...seeing Bant, laughing again, learning a new lesson. The other wishes are like distance stars, intangible.  
  
Suddenly it is as if the blanket of space is falling on my mind. My thoughts are scattering, my breath is escaping me and my heart is faltering in its measure. Space is truly making me it's own.  
  
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED! 


	2. Time

Thanks so much to my reviewers! You put a bounce in my step with your compliments!  
Well, here's part 2 but I don't feel it's as good as part 1. Hope you're not disappointed.  
  
(Qui-Gon's thoughts)  
  
They say time is distorted in a black hole, stealing years from a being's life span in a mere second. The theft is so quick, so painless, that it goes undetected. At first. But lost time has a way of catching up to even the most vigilant, striking at any weakness, giving a stinging rebuke for misspent moments. Time is something you can not get back....ever.  
  
As Yoda's apprentice, he repeatedly lectured me, "Time, gift it is, tool it is not." But I remained proficient at procrastination, certain that I could complete any task or duty in my own time frame. I foolishly clung unto the thought that the future could deal with it's self, that the present was always more important. How many times did I sternly rebuke Obi-Wan for focusing on the future and not the present!?! I should have followed the boy's example and not my own. Long ago I should have admitted that the boy has always been the better teacher.  
  
Now as I clutch Obi-Wan's dying body to me, I know the cruel truth of Yoda's words. Time is a gift. It is not a tool, not a way to manipulate life to your liking. Any fool can tell you that life is never manipulated. Any fool but me! I believed that I could manipulate life, time, or space, all to my specifications. Tragically, it is this boy that I love as a son who is paying the price for my foolish beliefs, obstinate pride.  
  
I thought I had time to gradually lower my barriers, to slowly allow Obi-Wan access to my feelings, my heart. I needed to be certain Obi-Wan would not harm me as Xanatos did. I needed to moderate my affection to the boy until he proved himself worthy of my love.  
  
Sith! What a fool I have been!!! I have loved this boy from day one and that terrified me! I didn't want to feel again, didn't want to ever be hurt again as I had been. I wanted to stay sheltered, forever. But Obi-Wan was so honorable, and caring, and pure...he was indelibly placed in my heart the second I saw him lying in the sickbay of the Monument bound for Bandomeer. And yet, moments after I realized that I cared for the boy, I gruffly refused to accept him as my Padawan, breaking his noble heart without regret...again.  
  
But I wouldn't stop harming the boy there, no, I would refuse him again and again. Even as the boy became my Padawan, I kept to the same heartless path, a path of stern rebukes, impatient teachings and a deception of detached regard. I never once told him I loved him, never once allowed myself the hugs I so wanted to administer to the boy when he returned from a life threatening escapade, alive and unscathed. No, I stored all those "weak" impulses away, reassuring myself that I would unveil them at the appropriate time. A time when I was certain of Obi-Wan's loyalty to the force...to me.  
  
But now my illusion of manipulating time has finally been revealed as a sham. As Obi-Wan's blood gathers on the hanger deck like scattered sand, I know the hourglass I thought I controlled has been shattered. "No!" tears from my throat as I sense my son slipping from my life and I pull him tighter against my chest.  
  
When I first dropped to my knees at his side, I feared that I had already lost him, his pulse and force were almost undetectable. But, though our bond, I knew that he lived, at least for the moment. I pressed my hand against the boy's blaster wound, trying to stanch the steady flow but it persistently surged through my fingers. I caressed the boy's white, still face but there was no reaction from the failing body of my apprentice. Knowing that science could not save the boy, reacting as a father, I pulled my son into my arms and surrounded him with love.  
  
Now as I look down at the youthful face pressed to my chest, my heart clenches. I can not bear to lose this boy, my boy. I have wasted so much time, have delayed so much happiness, have kept so many words unspoken. I have no more time to do any of it.  
  
My words are gentle, desperate, and unsteady as they are uttered past the sob that is constricting my throat. "I love you, Obi-Wan. I should have told you that a long time ago... on Bandomeer...after Medina/Daan...everyday." I close my eyes in anguish at my foolishness but a moment later I refocus on the precious face of Obi-Wan. "I was scared, my Padawan. Scared of being hurt again, scared of allowing myself to feel again, scared of becoming vulnerable," my voice turning bitter with self loathing. I stroke Obi-Wan's hair as I continue, "I let my fear control me and almost deprive me of the greatest gift I have even been given, a Padawan I love as a son."  
  
One of my tears drops onto the boy's face and follows a path I can see the boy's own tears traveled only minutes prior. With my thumb, I gently brush our joint tears from his check. "But holding you now..." my voice breaks and I pull upon every strength of will I possess to continue, "I know a fear that can blanket my soul forever. The fear of losing you. I can't overcome this, Padawan. Not this, never this." And my words dissolve into a sob.   
  
With new resolve, I staunch my sobs. Knowing that there is little to nothing that I won't exploit or sacrifice for the boy's life, I call upon a new tactic. With my tone full of adoration and respect, I softly begin. "Every time I have needed you, you have been there Obi-Wan. You have willingly offered all in your possession, even your very life, to aid me...to save me. No one could ask for a better Padawan." I pause, hesitant in my new tactic, but as I sense the force pulling Obi-Wan to it's embrace, the words pour from me. "But if you leave me now," I swallow, hard, but manage to continue to keep the desperation from my voice, "you will not be there when I need you. By relinquishing your own life now, you will be forfeiting my life." I pause, letting the words penetrate the boy's almost unresponsive mind. My final words are strong, firm, unwavering. "But I know you could never be selfish like that. It is not who you are."  
  
And then time seems to again be manipulated by a black hole, stretching into infinity within a two-second time frame. I watch Obi-Wan for any signs that my words have reached him, have forced a response from him. And with my whole being I pray that I may have more time with the boy, another chance to express my love for him, another chance to save my own soul.   
  
When Obi-Wan draws in a breath and his force strengthens, I can not hold back my sobs of joy. I lean over the boy, clutching to him and swearing to never relinquish my hold. Once again my son's loyalty and honor have saved my soul and rewarded me with a precious gift. Time. Time to be a father, time to love a son.  
  
TBC?????? 


	3. Destiny

Thanks to everyone who asked for more of this story!!! I hope this is an acceptable addition.  
  
(Obi-Wan's Thoughts)  
  
Death is an adversary none can overcome or sway. It weighs no factors, it grants no favors. It concedes no mercy. All this, I know. For I have held Cerasi in my arms as she drew her last breath. I have felt the phantom brush of Bruck's hand before he fell. There is no victor against death's cold claim. Not even a Jedi possesses such power.  
  
Knowing all this, certain of the threshold I had traversed, I am confounded to find myself in the realm of the living. Though I hover beyond consciousness, I know life surges through me where only death should. I can not understand the reprieve death has handed to me. It is against every aspect of its nature. A nature I now know better than most.  
  
I was in it's realm, suffocated by its darkness, buffeted by it's void, broken by it's finality. Then, within a blinking of an eye, the realm vanished and a lighted path beckoned me. A path I had thought forfeit. For I knew, as death drew to my side, my thoughts had not spoken well of my Jedi discipline or faith.  
  
My first step was hesitant. I feared that the path would vanish beneath my feet as my unworthiness was revealed. But the path held true and grew brighter at each step I took. My steps became bold and sure, for once, fear had no claim on me.   
  
Abruptly my steps faltered to a stop as strong, almost tangible emotions swirl around me and hold me, not in a harsh grip but a gentle, possessive embrace. An embrace I had never known in life. But I sensed something vulnerable in the emotions - desperation. Duty, honor, morality and friendship have swayed me many times in my life but none so strongly as desperation. My own desperation or someone else's, it mattered little, I could never neglect it's agony. Just as I could not now neglect the agony that swirled around me.   
  
I said nothing. I did nothing, save offer up my assistance to ease the desperation I sensed. It was the last moment I recalled until now. I don't remember continuing on the path, I don't remember stepping from the path or retracing my steps. Nor do I remember any fear at my new fate.  
  
Now as I draw closer to consciousness, my body begins to register the pain coursing through it. As a flare of agony tears sharply through me, I wince and a moan escaped from my minimal barriers. I worry little about having a witness to my show of weakness. I have been injured before, I know how it feels to awaken to pain and confusion, for my return to consciousness to go unobserved, to reemerge into the world and find myself alone.   
  
A feathery touch caresses my forehead and I flinch in surprise. I know the practical touch of the healers, their actions have no emotion save duty. But this touch, it lacks duty and speaks of compassion. It is a type of touch that is foreign to me. It evokes in me ludicrous hopes, hopes I dare not seek. Hopes I have decided to let die as I did. The reborn Obi-Wan will devote himself to duty, to practicality, to strength. He will not covet emotional ties, instead the only connection he will seek is to the Force.  
  
"Ssshhh, you're safe," drifts into my solitary world. I dare not utter the name of my visitor, dare not think it. It is a wrong guess, I know. It is a fanciful guess, a guess born out of weakness and deep-seated need. It is a guess I would never allow a soul to know I had been foolish enough to hazard.  
  
But more words follow, like a soft wind on my face even as a hand strokes my hair, "You're back at the temple and I'm with you, padawan." 'Padawan' echoes through my soul, unseals my cocoon of unconsciousness. I struggle through the mire that has blanketed my mind for what seems an eternity. I must know the truth, must face whatever reality awaits me. I need to know if Qui-Gon truly hovers at my side, if his soul mirrors the love his voice carries. Or is all of this just some dream, some last temptation.  
But opening my eyes seems a task too great for me to achieve, regardless of my own desperation. I reach out with the force, hoping to find an anchor to the real world. Suddenly I am again embraced by emotions, emotions I now know belong to my master. A sigh of contentment vibrates through my soul as Qui-Gon's love wraps around my mind and banishes the void.  
  
The light is harsh on my undilated eyes and I almost lose the battle to remain conscious. Just as I am about to concede defeat, my face is gently cupped in a large hand. "Come back to me, Obi-Wan. I've missed you greatly," washes into the void that has almost reclaimed me. It is enough to strengthen my fortitude and I again struggle to regain consciousness.  
  
The world that I finally surface into lacks the brightness it had a moment before and I realize that the light in the room has been dimmed. Slowly my eyes regain their focusing ability and I see my master sitting beside me on the bed. But Qui-Gon seems changed somehow and I fear that it is all a fallacy, that this is not reality. That reality truly has me a corpse, with only my mind alive with tortuous dreams.  
  
With astonishment I watch a tear track down my master's face and I am besieged with terror. What has befallen my strong, unflappable master?! And can I bear the hearing of this new tragedy? Suddenly I remember the desperation that drew me from my path to the force, Qui-Gon's desperation. I returned to offer my aid in his time of need, I must do as my heart dictates. I must face the calamity that has broken my master, must face it and conquer it as he has conquered so many of my personal demons.   
  
My voice is weak and scratchy from disuse, "Master, what's wrong?" Surprise flickers across his features and I quickly tender my strength. "Whatever it is we will deal with it together." His joyous chuckle with accompanying smile bewilders me and I wonder if he finds my "strength" a pathetic gift.   
  
But all my thoughts scatter to the far reaches of the galaxy as Qui-Gon leans over me and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls back slightly so that his eyes meet my own and the love found in their depths shocks me to my core. "I almost lost you, my Obi-Wan," and his voice trembles. He brushes a lock of my hair from my forehead and I sense his emotions settling. "And that's something I would not have survived." With tenderness, my stoic master gathers me into his arms and softly declares in my ear, "I love you, Obi-Wan. I love you as a father loves a son."  
  
A sob hitches in my throat and I'm terrified that this is all some fantasy, some illusion conjured up by my foolish heart. But as Qui-Gon's embrace shelters and supports me, I dismantle my barriers and my sob breaks free even as I clutch desperately to the man I love as a father. I am not such a fool to waste the chance I have been give, whether it be of fantasy or factuality.  
  
Qui-Gon strokes my hair as he tightens his hold on me but is ever mindful of my injury. "I am so proud of you, my padawan. You stopped the assassin and saved many lives almost at the cost of your own life. There is no action more worthy of a Jedi than that."  
  
But I recall my fear as I was lying on the hanger deck floor, my anger that the force had sacrificed me for the greater good. I swallow down my sobs and bury myself deeper into the broad chest. "I was afraid, master, and angry at the fate the force had dealt me. I have no right to be a Jedi."  
  
Qui-Gon pulls back and I brace myself for his look of disgust, a look that isn't there. Instead there is a twinkle in the eyes I know so well. He holds my face in his callused hands and brushes away my tears, "A Jedi feels fear and anger, Obi-Wan, but it is how he channels those emotions that separates him from everyone else. You let neither emotion deflect you from your path. You did what was right, what was in your heart. You are a credit to the order and to me."  
  
A smile beams on my face. I have faced my trial with worthiness and have earned the gift I thought out of my reach- Qui-Gon's love. "I love you, master," I confess softly.   
  
But Qui-Gon looks away at my words and I watch as he swallows hard before facing me again, "I know you do, Padawan. And I have never deserved your love...but I will. I will earn that honor that you have bestowed on me. I will not shut you out as I have done from the start, I will not make you pay for Xanatos' sins any longer." And before I can react to the declarations, I am again gathered into my master's arms.  
  
I feel safer than I have ever felt before, as if space itself holds no threat to me while I am in Qui-Gon's arms. But a part of me hunkers down in the dark reserves of my heart, refusing to relinquish itself to the moment, to believe this reality. And I can't banish the thoughts it whispers...'How long will this moment last? What transgressions will my master's love endure? And how will I go on when Qui-Gon's barriers return, leaving me alone, adrift, broken.'  
  
Clutching tighter to Qui-Gon, I steel myself against the truth. There are no guarantees in life, no promises kept forever. I will not render my whole heart to Qui-Gon, to his momentary vulnerability. No, the reborn Obi-Wan that I have become will accept that their is harshness lurking, even in this new miraculously pleasurable reality. I will greedily clutch onto any love Qui-Gon offers but I will accept it as a rare, precious treasure. A treasure that can flicker out like a star, without warning, without apology.   
  
But I am determined that this treasure, no matter how ephemeral, will banish the void that has occupied my heart for so long. Even when Qui-Gon retreats back behind his barriers, I will have the sweet memories of his love to sustain me, forever. And if Qui-Gon discovers that a fragment of the void remains, encased in the portion of my heart that I won't allow him to break, he too must find satisfaction in a gift that is imperfect and temporal.  
  
Gently, Qui-Gon eases me back onto the bed and strokes my cheek with his large hand. The force is alive with his love, his concern and his protection. I feel ashamed of the distrust I harbor about the endurance of my master's love. Ashamed but not repentant. I have stood on the abyss of space, of life itself, and was granted another chance, a chance to be stronger than I was before, to guard myself against pain. To find worth in my own soul and not through another's eyes. I will not abandon this second chance but neither can I abandon the miracle of Qui-Gon's love. No, I will clutch both gifts tightly to my chest and face the onslaught of reality. I will travel the path I was fated to journey upon, a path that will forge me into the Jedi I am destined to be.  
  
  
To be continued  
  
(I know, it's cruel of me to throw in a TBC but the next part is almost complete. ) 


	4. Peace

Well, it's been a long time in coming and not really worth the wait but here's chapter 4. I've also tagged on a Chapter 5 (which is also posted). I'ld love to hear what you think.  
  
(Qui-Gon's Thoughts)  
  
Peace is an ideal so fragile that is seems an illusion, ephemeral at best. It can not be resolutely clutched in one's hands but only guarded in one's heart by a gentle embrace. It's length of residency marked by it's beholder's tenderness and purity of soul. But I have coldly brokered peace like a commodity without ever acknowledging it's true worth.   
  
Now unmarred peace has touched my long guarded heart and I know what a miracle it's very existence truly is. Just as I know to whom I owe thanks for this precious gift. Obi-Wan. But even as peace covers my soul, I know it's stay will be fleeting if I let the barrier that my son has constructed around his own heart to stand, unchallenged, by the depth of my love.   
  
I have fought in many battles, I have stared down hatred and I have defied the council. But it all seems child's play compared to meeting my 16 year old apprentice's eyes and telling him what is in my heart. "A Jedi faces his fears, runs from them he does not." Usually I would rather face a resurrected Sith than succumb myself to the vulnerability of emotions but the stakes are higher than my own life, than my own soul. If I fail in this "negotiation", I will forfeit Obi-Wan's love and that is a defeat I can not bear to suffer.   
  
Daily I watch him struggle to manage the pain that still courses through him as the healers tend to his wound. He shoots me a worried look and I give him an encouraging smile. I know what he is afraid of, what he is waiting for. He expects me to withdraw my love, to reconstruct my barriers twenty times stronger than they were originally. He is anticipating my disappointment, and my abandonment.   
  
I can not fault his caution nor his logic. How many times have I offered a slivering of my respect, of my love, only to pluck them savagely from his grasp, from his very heart. No worthy father withholds his love so cruelly. And no worthy father abandons his son to the manipulations of the world as I have done so callously. He thought he was unworthy to be a Jedi but it is I who am unworthy, to be a Jedi Master or to be a father.   
  
But I am unwilling, even unable to quit the arena of either position. I can not leave Obi-Wan, not even for his benefit. No, instead I will keep my promise to him. I will become worthy of the titles bestowed on me, of the love he has given me. Now I must show him my steadfast resolve, prove that I will not abandon him nor withdraw my love, ever.  
  
I enter the Medical ward to find him struggling to walk but I can sense his agony and weakness. He begins to crumble to the floor but I fly to his side and catch him with in my grasp. With great care, I pick him up in my arms. "I'm sorry, Master," he stammers and I cringe at the look of abjection in his eyes. A reaction I cultivated in him.   
  
"There's nothing to be sorry about, my padawan. You haven't suffered a failure." And I hold my position as I watch his youthful face register my response. He is caught off guard by my response, is hesitant to accept it's leniency.   
  
"But I did fail, master. I can't even walk across the room," his tone of self- loathing pierces my heart. I shake my head in denial. "This is a victory, Obi-Wan. Your body was severely injured and it requires time to mend. That you are drawing in a breath is a miracle, that you can stand is a wonder, that you can manage a step at all is more than the healer's foresaw at this stage of your recovery."   
  
His look merges into relief and I smile at the sight. "Come, let's get you back to bed," and I carry my precious burden back to the bed, carefully lay him on the mattress and pull the covers up to his chin. I claim a seat on the side of his bed and he watches me intently. Suddenly I am not the master he has grown accustomed to, I have become unpredictable in his eyes. I am trying my best to shape that unpredictability into something he anticipates with joy instead of viewing with trepidation.   
  
My voice is raw with anguish as I begin, "When I first saw you lying on the hanger deck," I swallow down my emotions even as I redirect my gaze to my hands in my lap. A moment passes while I marshal my feelings into array. Then I meet my apprentice's gaze again, "I thought you were dead." A shudder vibrates through me as the memory washes over me. "There was so much blood...your blood. And I...I couldn't help you, could only hold you in my arms and beg you to return to me, to save me."  
  
The boy's eyes are huge in his pale face at my words. And I almost miss his quiet question, "Save you?" I brush my knuckles across his check, "Yes, my son, save me. I finally knew then what you meant to me, to my soul and I could not endure the loss of you. I knew it would destroy me, destroy me with a potential that Xanatos' betrayal never had. No matter how deeply my affection for Xanatos ran, my heart never claimed him as a son, not as it had you."  
  
I let the truth of my words permeate the boy before I continue. "Some would probably say I used underhanded tactics to save you." A moment of silence falls between us. "I pleaded with you to stay with me ... but more than that. I told you that you would be abandoning me when I needed you most, that you would be forfeiting my life if you died. I exploited your honor, your devotion, your love to keep you by my side. I would not let the force have you, regardless if it were your destiny to die that day. I put my desires above everything else."   
  
I look again down at my hands, ashamed of myself but knowing the truth had to be spoken. Meeting the boy's eyes, I speak the last truth that I had concealed for far too long, "And I don't feel regret for any of it because I love you, Obi-Wan, and need you by my side. I know I have failed you and hurt you but I will not do so in the future. I don't want to waste another moment of our time together being aloof and protected. I want to know the joys of having a son, of being a father, of offering love instead of greedily taking it. Please, Obi-Wan, give me another chance."  
  
Again the world seemed to grapple in the grips of a black hole. This boy held my fate in his hands and I would not denounce his verdict. I had not the right. Obi-Wan's words were slow, measured but strong, "When I thought I would die, I wanted another chance...." Obi-Wan's head drops and I fear that his resolve is set, he will reject me.  
  
I close my eyes as overwhelming pain shatters my heart. A Jedi's mission is to bring peace to all those who seek their aid. But I know I will never have peace in my soul without Obi-Wan's forgiveness. And I can not hope to offer to others what I can not obtain myself. Obi-Wan will decide my fate this day. I will either be Obi-Wan's Jedi Master or I no longer will be a Jedi.  
  
My eyes fly open as a youthful hand touches my cheek and I am rewarded with the sweet sight of my padawan's face. Concern mars his pale face and I curse myself for being the cause of more of his pain. I offer an encouraging but small smile. The decision is his alone and it should be made, not out of pity, but out of love. "Tell me, padawan. What did you wish for?" my voice soft and striving to be light, even as my very soul lies close to desolation.  
  
A guarded look falls onto the boy's eyes and I curse my pride. I am still trying to pretend my heart doesn't lie within the boy's hands. But Obi-Wan takes a steadying breath and I know his decision has been made. He meets my eyes boldly and speaks the words that will seal my fate.  
  
"What I wished for...was a chance to tell you that I loved you as if you were my father." Suddenly breath is beyond my abilities as the words fall on my ears and my eyes watch my son's face. "And I wanted to make you care about me." A smile lights up Obi-Wan's face, "I guess I got my wish...and you got yours."   
  
Without thinking of his injuries, I pull Obi-Wan into my arms but at the last second, I remember that I must be gentle with his healing body, and moderate my hug to something less than bone breaking. His arms wrap tightly around me and I murmur in his ear, "I love you, son." Almost simultaneously, Obi-Wan whispers in my ear "I love you, father". With those words, Obi-Wan decides my fate and captures my heart, forever. Unfathomable peace settles deep into my soul and I know there is nothing more precious in this life than love.  
  
There's a cute epilogue in the next chapter and my final A/N.  
  
Thanks to all who took the time to read this chapter!!!  
  
Cheryl 


	5. Epilogue

Here's the final conclusion of this story.   
  
A smile grew on Yoda's face as he watched the scene before him, a scene he thought never to see. A chuckle escaped his reserve as Obi-Wan splashed Qui-Gon in the face with fountain water. To Yoda's surprise and to Obi-Wan's astonishment, Qui-Gon retaliated, delivering a wave of water to the boy's face. Obi-Wan's laughter echoed through the room.  
  
"I can't believe the change in Qui-Gon ...well, in both of them," a voice spoke from behind Yoda. Seconds later, Mace claimed a seat beside the little green master. Both watched as Qui-Gon ruffled Obi-Wan's hair affectionately before he began drying off the boy's face with a towel.  
  
"I thought Obi-Wan wanted to go swimming," Mace questioned. "All that is wet is his feet and now his face."  
  
A happy snort came from Yoda, " Qui-Gon won't allow him to get his wound wet."  
  
Mace focused on Yoda, "Did the healers give him that instruction?"  
  
Yoda shook his head with a gleam in his eye. "No, Obi-Wan's master's rule it is." A smile pulled onto Mace's face at that news.  
  
The Jedi masters fell silent and watched the harmonious scene before them. Then Mace broke the silence, speaking softly so his words would not carry any further than Yoda's ears. "This is not the way your vision ended, is it?"  
  
"No," Yoda sharply replied. "Death of Obi-Wan my vision held."  
  
"He died back on the planet," Mace supplied, not as a question but as a statement.  
  
But Yoda met his eyes piercingly, "No, die on the planet he did not."  
  
Mace's eye brows rose in alarm, "Is he still in danger?"  
  
"Safe he is," and Yoda focused his look back on Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, "safe in his master's love." He offered no further explanation as he watched Qui-Gon stand and gently aid Obi-Wan to his feet. With an arm around the boy's shoulders, Qui-Gon led his son from the room.  
  
Facing Mace again, Yoda continued. "Died at the temple Obi-Wan did in my vision."  
  
"I don't understand. What changed Kenobi's fate?"  
  
A soft smile pulled onto the green face, "Easy it was for Qui-Gon to speak from his heart when he thought Obi-Wan was dying on the planet. Not so easy the words come when no visible threats exist."  
  
Dawning grew on Mace's features, "Unlike your vision of the future, Qui-Gon stayed by Obi-Wan's side and told the boy how he felt, even after the perceived threat had passed."  
  
Nodding, Yoda replied, "Yes. Accepted vulnerability Qui-Gon did. Opened his heart he did."   
  
"And if he had not, Obi-Wan would have died as you saw in your vision," Mace concluded.  
  
Yoda nodded again, "Even when fear disappears, dismiss it's lessons we should not."  
  
Entering their quarters, Qui-Gon announced, "I think it's time for you to go to bed." And he steered Obi-Wan toward his room.  
  
"But master..." Obi-Wan began but Qui-Gon broke in with a laugh.  
  
"No, buts, Obi-Wan. You are going to bed." But at the boy's crestfallen look, Qui-Gon relented. "Ok, you can sit up with me for a little while."   
  
This earned him a warm smile from Obi-Wan and they both claimed a seat on the couch. A moment later a quiet question broke the silence, "How'd you find me in the hanger deck?"  
  
Qui-Gon turned to face Obi-Wan, brushing a strand of hair from the boy's brow. "I sensed your pain and I let our connection lead me to you."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded in understanding, dropping his eyes.  
  
Qui-Gon put his fingers under his apprentice's chin and eased the boy's head up so he could meet his eyes. "You weren't alone, my padawan and you never will be. I may not have been standing at your side, but I was with you, Obi-Wan, here," and he tapped Obi-Wan's heart.  
  
Impulsively Obi-Wan threw his arms around Qui-Gon and without hesitation the embrace was returned. "Good night, father," Obi-Wan bid. Qui-Gon placed a kiss on top of Obi-Wan's head before releasing the boy with a "Night, kiddo."  
  
Settling into his own bed for the first time in a month, Obi-Wan stared into the darkness that permeated the room. No fear came, no memories tore into his mind, no void clutched at his soul. Instead, peace blanketed his soul. He had traveled an unmercifully harsh path but it had lead him to a home filled with hope, peace and love. Truly, some destinations were worth any journey.  
  
The End  
  
Well, good or bad, that's the ending. I'm truly sorry this took me so long to finish. I really thought I had the ending down and then, well, life happened and my mood changed and suddenly everything I wrote seemed like junk.   
  
Thanks again to everyone who reviewed this story and asked for more chapters. I appreciated every kind word!!!  
  
Cheryl 


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